Have you considered how your fashion and identity as an academic might intersect? Here, Dr. Kavita Mudan Finn reflects on the subject from a personal standpoint, but her essay is rich in insight into how we may do the same.
I was inspired by Aaron Hanlon’s Twitter thread on academic fashion, and decided to consider my fashion and identity as an academic.
I am not trying to be prescriptive here.
I know for instance, that women’s fashion (and fashion in general) is especially challenging for plus-size people and people with disabilities, so any suggestions on that front would be especially welcome.
Anyone who wants to comment about their own experience and offer suggestions based on that is encouraged to do so. I just want to talk about my personal experience with style, fashion, la mode, and so on.
I’m coming at this as a cis woman who spent most of her life thinner than average. My experience is very much my own and may not translate to others.
I am contingent faculty when I’m teaching.
At this exact moment, I am on self-imposed “maternity leave,” which is a fancy term for being unemployed with a baby since I live in the United States and we don’t believe in parental leave (eyeroll).
I’m still publishing, but nobody is paying me (luckily, I have a spouse with a Real Job™). I’m on the job market, technically, but, well, that is its own can of worms.
Secondly, I am a woman of colour and I am not in the least bit white-passing.
These two factors influence my fashion choices in different ways.
As contingent faculty, I don’t feel that I have the freedom to “dress down.” I always have to look polished and put together, to look “professional.”
Most advice for academics, particularly for women, tends to fall into that pattern. Never mind that the very concept of “professional” clothing has classist, racist, and sexist implications.
The prevalence of suits as default academic dress for all genders exists for the same reason that it exists in law, finance, or business.
Academia was– and to a large extent, remains a white male-dominated space; so the default setting for “professionalism” is “look like a white man.” C.f. this thread by Emily Hooke:
I’ve been thinking a lot about the “academic wardrobe” thread and it makes me uncomfortable because it plays into the idea that to be treated “like a colleague” in academia you need to look and dress a certain way, rather than emphasising everyone is worthy of the same respect /1— Emily Hooke (@emilylovesparis) January 18, 2019
I won’t say that I’m a fashion aficionado. I’m not.
I like what I like, and what I like is inevitably at least 3 years out of date, if not more.
What I am is someone with a pretty well-defined sense of personal style, honed over about two decades.
If I had to describe it, I’d call it about:
- 30% Audrey Hepburn
- 20% Goth
- 20% Victorian dandy, and
- 30% too-tired-to-do-anything-right-now because I have two small children.
Anyway. You’re probably here for advice/tips on how I navigate academic fashion, so I’ll do my best.
#1 I think of academic fashion as cosplay
I think I’ve owned one suit that I was happy with– a J. Crew Super 120s wool suit in navy with white pinstripes.
I bought the skirt new on clearance and got the matching jacket and trousers used on eBay.
I even own a blouse that works for it–a cream silk shell from White House Black Market that I also got on clearance for $10.
This entire ensemble (which I’m wearing in my “official” headshot from 2017) took about three years to put together, but I’m also pleased to say that it doubles as excellent stealth Peggy Carter cosplay.
I’m an introvert by nature and it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that the self I present at conferences or while teaching is a character of sorts – a version of myself who is more confident, more outgoing, and more authoritative.
This way, thinking of conference (or interview or teaching) fashion as cosplay made it far easier to develop a distinct style that worked for me.
I’ve never not dressed up to teach.
Even as a graduate student when I had single-student tutorials, I dressed nicer than usual because I knew I needed to in order to be taken seriously.
Jacket, nice top, dressy trousers, heels.
I still have those heels even though I’ve needed to replace the soles twice because I walked too much in them. (Got them for $30 at DSW after Christmas in 2008. I regret nothing.)
When I returned to the US after finishing my PhD in 2010, I taught part-time at three universities in the greater Washington DC area: Georgetown University, George Washington University, and the University of Maryland at College Park.
I upped my fashion game so I didn’t look shabbier than my students, some of whom had more pocket money than I made in a year.
I stocked up on dresses and jackets from a variety of clearance racks and invested in a pair of lace-up knee-high boots that I still own (these are the updated version with a more rugged sole). I still get compliments on them, and they happen to be very comfortable and great for teaching.
I also wore full makeup on teaching days (although I admit this got a bit spotty toward the end of the semester, especially in spring 2012 when I was teaching 4 classes across 2 universities that were on opposite sides of the city).
You may also like to read:
Learning to love myself through lipstick by Dr. Hattie Earle.
#2 I dress for comfort
For me, the important thing for teaching is to be able to move in whatever I’m wearing.
I tend to pace a lot and to wave my hands around, so I figured out that, with few exceptions,** pencil skirts and tight sheath dresses weren’t going to work for me. Thankfully, trends shifted from sheath to A-line and even full-skirted dresses, which made things easier for me.
#3 I dress to be noticed
If I’m dressing for conferences, I’m dressing to be noticed.
I realized relatively early on that, as a woman of colour straddling two predominantly white fields (medieval and early modern studies), I was going to stick out no matter what I did.
I decided to embrace it and indulge my more esoteric tastes.
These include things like:
- Blood-red lipstick
- Metallic eye makeup
- Funky jewelry
- Statement Shoes
- and hats.
I love hats. I refuse to let dudebros ruin trilbys (I’ve owned a red one since 2010, c.f. above about Peggy Carter cosplay), and I have a burgundy cloche (similar to this one) that is my go-to conference hat.
#4 I am intentional
If I had to give people advice (and I try to avoid that when possible), it would be to focus on intentionality.
Whatever you choose to wear is great, so long as you commit to it.
It can be something you bought for $5 off the clearance rack (I’ve done that) or a designer item that you splurged on (done that too). However, what ultimately matters is that you’re comfortable in it and that you like it and that it fits.
A good tailor is worth their weight in gold. I’ve deliberately bought things a size larger and had them tailored to fit me.
#5 Take advantage of secondhand/consignment markets
Check out Goodwill, Salvation Army, or whatever other local options you have.
Now is an especially good time to try, given the current KonMari craze and people ditching stuff that doesn’t spark joy*** in them.
You may also liked to read:
The secrets to successful thrift shopping by Dr. Madeleine Seys (Fashion Editor at Stylish Academic).
#6 Suggested stores to shop my brand of academic fashion
I used to make fun of my mother for shopping here when I was young and stupid. I am no longer young and stupid and both of these stores are amazing.
They are great for clothing, but also shoes, accessories, skincare, and makeup.
I found several skincare and makeup items that retailed for twice the price at Sephora (and don’t get me wrong; I love Sephora, but they are not cheap).
I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve shopped at an actual Nordstrom.
If you’ve never been fitted for a bra, I highly recommend them; their employees absolutely know what they’re doing.
I go to Nordstrom Rack several times a year and I use their website as well.
They are great for all kinds of items, and they have epic sales at Black Friday, end-of-year and the middle of summer. I buy winter boots there in summer, for myself and for my daughters.
Note for anyone who shops at Nordstrom Rack: The Nordstrom credit card offers $100/year in free alterations for anything purchased at either a regular Nordstrom store or at Nordstrom Rack, depending on how often you shop there. They also offer rewards for repeat customers.
One of my pipe dreams for a long time has been custom clothing made specifically for me.
I still hope to manage a suit someday (and have several Etsy sellers bookmarked for this purpose), but in the meantime, eShakti gets me most of the way there for dresses.
You may also liked to read:
The suit – a guide to bespoke tailoring for academics by Dr. Madeleine Seys, Fashion Editor @ Stylish Academic
Their designs are fun, they carry plus sizes, they are always having sales, and pretty much all of their dresses come standard with pockets.
The only caveat I’d issue is that if you’re getting a long-sleeved dress, give them measurements of your arms to make sure the sleeves are wide enough.
* This is why online secondhand shopping is so dangerous. That random jacket I fell in love with in 2009 but couldn’t find in my size? Someone will sell it to me, possibly at a discount. The dress I bought one of when I ought to have bought three because it was perfection? On sale from someone else’s wardrobe. THE INTERNET IS A MARVEL, PEOPLE. It just also hates my bank account.
** The kickpleat is a wondrous thing.
** I’m aware that “joy” isn’t an exact translation of the term Kondo is using; it’s one of those Japanese words that doesn’t properly translate into English. She has specified in interviews that she refers to items that are meaningful.
This article was originally published on Dr. Kavita Mudan Finn’s blog, but has been re-purposed with permission for Stylish Academic.